The page departed the privy chamber, and a moment later theking’s secretary, in his long black robe, entered with his basket of supplies. He sat at the king’s command, setting up his inkstand and taking out a piece of parchment. Then he looked to his master for further instructions.
“Is Sir William Douglas still in Perth?” the king asked the man. He knew that his secretary made it a point to know every- and anything that the king would need to know.
“I believe he left for the borders this morning, my lord.”
“Send after him tonight. It is most urgent that I speak with him,” the king said.
The secretary nodded. “Will that be all, my lord?”
“For now, aye,” came the reply.
The secretary arose, gathered up his supplies, and hurried from the chamber.
When the door had closed the king added another piece of wood to his fire, and then sat back down with his goblet. Autumn was fading fast, and the winter would be upon them soon. He drank his wine down, and called to his page once more. When the page had come James Stewart said, “Find me Lady Grey of Ben Duff, and bring her here to me privily.”
The page went quickly from the king’s presence, and returned shortly with Lady Grey. Noticing how heavy she was with child, the king invited her to be seated opposite him before the blazing hearth.
“I have sent after Sir William, who departed for his keep this day. When he returns I will explain the difficulty. I expect him to disabuse his relation of his foolishness, but if winter sets in I will expect you to visit once or twice at Glengorm so you may befriend Lady Cicely, and convince her that her best course lies in marrying Andrew Gordon, the laird of Fairlea,” the king said quietly.
“So you would put an unwitting spy among the Gordons of Huntley,” Maggie MacLeod said sarcastically. “Even as you put one among the MacDonalds. By the rood, my liege, I wonder if your lords know just how dangerous a man you are!”
“Tread lightly with me, madam,” James Stewart warned her softly. “Your usefulness to me will not always protect you from my wrath.”
Maggie MacLeod look directly at the king, and her bright blue eyes were sad. Her hands went to her belly protectively. “Were it not for the love I bear Ben Duff I should have told the laird of Brae what you forced me to do,” she said to him. “I betrayed a friend, and I shall never be absolved of that sin. Now you want me to do it again. You are a cruel master, my liege, but I will comply for the sake of my husband, and the child I will soon bear him. And this one final act I will perform for you, but when I leave court this time you will never again see my face.”
The king nodded. “I understand, madam,” he said quietly. “But I am not the monster you think me. I needed Fiona Hay in the north. As for Lady Cicely Bowen, because her father gave her the privilege of choosing her own husband, she is dillydallying like the foolish lass she is. The laird of Fairlea is an excellent match for her, and he wants her. We might have had a betrothal announced at Twelfth Night had it not been for the rash actions of the Douglas of Glengorm.”
“I do not disagree with you, my liege,” Maggie MacLeod replied. “I just don’t like being put in the position of having to cajole her into a decision she is not ready to make. I know her, and I would not consider her foolish at all. But while he is vain and a bit arrogant, the laird of Fairlea is not a bad man. And Lady Cicely is a strong girl. She will have him in hand after a short time.”
The king laughed, breaking the tension in the chamber. “Aye,” he agreed, chuckling. “Ce-ce will have him well in hand, and quickly. Only after he has put a ring on her finger will he realize she has put one through his nose.” Then he grew serious again. “Sir William will return sometime tomorrow, madam. And you will depart for the border the following day. Ce-ce’s tiring woman will go with you, and Sir William will bring her to Glengorm himself. I am sure both Orva and her mistress will be happy to be reunited. You might make yourfirst visit with Ce-ce then. I am hoping we can regain custody of her before the winter sets in,” the king concluded.
“I will do it,” Lady Grey said. Then she rose. “If that is all, my liege, I will return to my husband. He will wonder why I am late from the queen’s chamber.” She curtsied, and then went from the privy chamber.
Sir William Douglas returned to the palace in late afternoon, and went directly to the king to learn what had made James Stewart send after him. He was brought to the little privy chamber, because while some at the court already knew that Lady Cicely had been abducted, it was not yet public knowledge, nor was the kidnapper known. The king wanted his privacy while he attempted to quickly straighten out the situation.
Sir William was astounded when he was told of his kinsman’s rash actions. “My lord, I am astonished that Ian would act in such a manner. He is thought to be a careful man, but then, he was very taken by the lovely Lady Cicely. He will not harm her, for he is an honorable man. I suspect he will attempt to convince her that he would be a better husband for her than the laird of Fairlea. What can I do to aid you in this situation?”
“Leave tomorrow for Glengorm, Sir William. You will not be able to travel as quickly as you would alone, for I would have you take Lady Cicely’s tiring woman, Orva, to her mistress. If the lady has been frightened by this adventure Orva’s presence will calm her. Grey of Ben Duff and his wife will go with you as well. I understand that they are near neighbors to Glengorm. Lady Grey knows Ce-ce. She will reassure her and help her to convince Ian Douglas to release her. If he does so I will not punish him. A man in love is apt to act in a witless manner.”
“And Andrew Gordon will have her to wife then, despite all of this? Does he know she has been abducted by Ian Douglas?” Sir William inquired.
“Huntley will tell him. And if your kinsman is the honorable manyou claim he is then there should be no problem. The girl was a virgin when she left the palace yesterday. She should therefore be a virgin on her wedding night. The decision of a husband is hers to make, for her father promised her, but aye, Fairlea is the best choice for her,” the king said. “It would please my queen and me greatly if she wed him.”
No fool, Sir William understood what the king was telling him. “I shall leave at first light in the morning,” he said.
“Excellent!” The king smiled with his approval. “I shall send to the others in your party so they will be ready.”
Sir William Douglas bowed himself from the king’s privy chamber.Damn Ian!he thought irritably. The bloody man was foolhardy, hotheaded, and incautious. Yet until he had laid eyes on Lady Cicely Bowen he had never been any of those things. He had been a sensible man, always watching over his Glengorm clanfolk. Why had he not accepted his overlord’s offer of a bride last summer?I could have found him a good wife.
But nay! Ian Douglas claimed himself in love. What the hell did love have to do with a good marriage? Love was for silly lasses and old women dreaming of a past that never existed. Love! Bah! The inconsiderate fellow had put all of Clan Douglas at risk over a pretty face. I’ll take the wench from Glengorm myself, and return her to the king, Sir William determined angrily.
But when the morning came the Douglas lord had calmed his ire. He had known Ian all his life. His actions had been daring, and, having fought beside him in many a border skirmish, Sir William knew his kinsman could be adventurous. There was a chance that the lass might actually come to like her captor. And as the choice was hers, she might agree to wed Ian. Her dower was not one to be overlooked, and why should the Gordons get such a prize? Had not the Douglases been loyal to Scotland’s kings? Certainly far more loyal than the Gordons of Huntley. And if the lass was happy and content, the queen would cajole the king into forgiving the transgressions of Ian Douglas for the sake of her beloved friend.
Entering the courtyard of the small palace, Sir William found his party awaiting him. “Andrew!” he greeted Grey of Ben Duff. Then he looked to Lady Grey. “God’s foot, woman!” he exclaimed. “Your bairn appears close to birthing.”
Maggie MacLeod nodded. “I want to go home,” she said. “Ben Duff’s heir should be born in his own home.” Two servants aided her into a small padded cart, where an older woman with a dour face sat.
“Aye, aye,” Sir William agreed. Then he turned to the other woman. “You’ll be Orva then?” he asked her.
